Crush
by GataChica
Summary: Power outages at NCIS are followed by something much worse, and the team races against time to find the answers. Tabby, slight Jibbs
1. Chapter 1

Title: Crush

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

Timothy McGee bent his head over his PDA just in time to avoid being hit in the jaw by a flying airplane. Instead, it hit his temple.

"Ouch! Tony, don't make those things so damn pointed. That hurt," McGee grumbled.

"Aw, Probie is grouchy without his best friend," Tony said in feigned sympathy as he prepared another airplane.

"I thought we were his best friends," Ziva commented.

"No, I mean his computer. He loves it more than almost any person alive – maybe even more than his _mother_." He reached his hand back to launch his next plane, but was stunned by a head slap. He didn't say anything as Gibbs walked by, only cast hurt glances at his boss while rubbing the back of his head.

"Boss, how long before we can use our computers?" McGee asked urgently.

"Don't know. If we don't lose power again, and if they can figure out what's going on, we can return to normal."

"Or as normal as we ever are –"

"DiNozzo."

"Shutting up, Boss."

"If they can't find the problem, or we have another outage –" The lights picked that moment to fail yet again, and McGee groaned. " – we pack it up and shut down HQ until it's safe."

"Safe from what?"

"Terrorists, DiNozzo."

"Power failures are often a prelude to an attack," remarked Ziva.

"I'm going down to check on Abby. The rest of you, go home."

**NCIS**

"Okay, Major Mass Spec, let's see – no, no, no, shit!" Abby cursed as the room went dark for the third time that day. She hit the countertop with her fists, carefully avoiding the delicate machinery all around her. Even though it was still daylight, the small windows of her basement lab were not letting in much light.

She waited for her eyes to adjust, then located the flashlight she had been using earlier. It took awhile to find it, and she had barely switched it on when the backup generators started, filling the room with light. Of course, it was dimmer than normal, but it was light nevertheless.

She walked back to her mass spectrometer and saw that the sudden outage had damaged it – the display was covered with odd symbols and codes that she couldn't decipher. "Shit!" she exclaimed again.

"Better watch your mouth, Abbs; you don't wanna lose that innocent reputation." Gibbs was grinning at her from the lab's entrance.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, _right_, Gibbs. Now go away – as you can see, I have no results for you." She sighed with frustration as she began the laborious task of rebooting all of her electronic devices.

She thought he had left until she felt a light touch on her shoulder. She whirled instantly to see a half smile on his lips. "Abby, the building is being shut down until maintenance can get a handle on the power losses. There's always the chance it could be intentional."

Her eyes widened. "Terrorists?"

He nodded. "Get your things and I'll walk you upstairs."

"Why can't we – oh, _duh_," she murmured, as she realized how unsafe riding an elevator could be under the present circumstances. "Be right back."

Moments later they were climbing the stairs to the parking garage.

**NCIS**

"_Now we let them think they've found the problem," a voice whispered in a small room lit only by a single candle, "and then we execute phase 2." The language wasn't English, of course, nor was it recognizable at all._

"_Would you go over phase 2 once more please?" asked another voice, using the same language._

"_Yes. When NCIS begins work again, _we_ start _our_ work. Dinga, you are in charge of power grid…."_


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Crush (2)

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

Abby was not surprised when she opened her door to the delicious aroma of cannelloni, antipasto, and sautéed asparagus. "Tony!" she squealed, rushing into the kitchen to give him a great big Abby hug.

"Hey, Abbs, I was wondering when you'd get here." He smiled, brandishing a wooden spoon covered in red sauce. Abby held out her tongue for a taste; she was surprised when he used his index finger to wipe the spoon, then laid it against her tongue, her lips automatically closing around it.

He was even more surprised when she took her time licking and sucking all traces of sauce off his finger. He could feel the goose bumps running up his arms and down his back, but he was helpless to stop her. Finally she released his finger and slowly licked her lips. "Great sauce, Tony." Then she turned with a little smirk and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Tony in shock, his mind full of the sensation of her mouth covering his finger, imagining the magic that same mouth could do when wrapped around certain other body parts.

After several seconds he shook himself out of his fantasies and reminded himself that Abby was his friend. And besides, Gibbs would kill him. They'd had a brief fling when he was first hired, but Gibbs squelched that pretty quick. He had to wonder why she'd teased him that way, but then again she was a terrible tease. Or could it possibly have been real? But Gibbs would kill him. He kept coming back to that refrain. If nothing else could stop him, surely the thought of Gibbs' retribution could!

He managed to finish preparing the meal, although his mind was still reeling, and served their plates. "Abby!" he shouted, running into her as he carried a plate to the table. "Oops! I thought you were upstairs."

She took the endangered food from his hands and set it on the table. "No, I've been checking my email. And I changed clothes, of course."

'_Oh yeah… did she ever…,'_ he thought, gazing at her body, which was clad only in a tank top and panties. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Tony!" she finally yelled, amused. "It's not like you haven't seen me in underwear before. Stop staring at me."

"Yeah, but that was before you sucked my finger," he muttered under his breath, retrieving the other plate from the kitchen.

"What was that?" she asked, grinning at him when he turned around and found her following.

"Nothing."

"I thought I heard something about your finger."

He denied it again, then set the other plate down with a thud. They sat at the table.

"Tony, something's bothering you. Did I do something?" Abby asked, her expression innocent.

He avoided her eyes at first. "No, of course – yes, Abby!" he replied fiercely, his eyes fixed on hers. "I know you like to tease, and normally I don't mind. Normally I can shift my thoughts to some other woman, one who is safe.

"But do you have any idea how your little performance with the sauce affected me? Then you changed into these skimpy clothes that expose way too much skin for me to keep my composure, too much for me to be just your best friend and substitute brother. I _am_ a man, Abbs, with a healthy sex drive, no girlfriend, and very tight pants at the moment. I can't help it. Just give me some time to cope, okay?" He picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of asparagus, refusing to look at her.

"I'm sorry," she replied in a meek voice, picking up her fork. But before using the fork, she paused. "How tight?" she asked thoughtfully, with the beginnings of a smile.

Tony just groaned. "Abby, please. I can't have sex with you, no matter how much I want to, because Gibbs will kill me. No joke. Not only is there rule 1 and rule12, but you're _Abby_. You're his favorite and he would not like the thought of 'his girl' with a womanizer like me."

She just nodded, her head bowed, and took a bite of cannelloni. They finished the meal in an uncomfortable silence. _'Have I just ruined our friendship?' _Abby wondered. _'I guess I did go too far. But when he put his finger in my mouth it just turned me on so much... I know I should have stopped. He's probably afraid of me now.'_

Tony felt bad about pushing away his best friend, even though he knew he had to. _'Will it ever be the same?'_ he thought. _'We've flirted lots of times since the 'incident,' but this was different. I could tell she was serious. I _had_ to push her away. Maybe we can get past this, pretend it never happened.' _But he had his doubts about that solution.

When they were finished, Abby collected the dishes and set about washing them, while Tony cleaning up the cooking mess. They could feel the tension in the small kitchen, made worse by the fact that occasionally they bumped into one another. That was never a good thing.

Finally, everything was done and they came to that awkward moment of deciding what to do next. Luckily, Abby had been thinking while she worked. "Hey Tony, wanna watch 'The Sum of All Fears'?" She knew it was one of his favorites.

He smiled. "Hmm, Ben Affleck, Morgan Freeman, a young Jack Ryan – can't beat that!"

"Great!" She clapped her hands together. "You know where it is, don't you? Get it set up and I'll be right back."

He tried not to wonder what she was doing and whether it would prove to be helpful or unhelpful. Instead, he searched for the movie in Abby's disorganized pile of DVDs and once he found it, he set it up, ready to play. When he heard her footfalls on the stairs, he was relieved to see that she had put on more clothes – a loose T-shirt and drawstring pants.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile, settling herself into the reclining chair.

"Always." The moment he said it he knew he shouldn't have, but he grinned sheepishly and she grinned back. Tony stretched out on the couch and pushed PLAY on the remote.

Two hours later, Tony blinked at the credits rolling down the screen. Abby had been asleep, curled up in the recliner, for at least 30 minutes, judging by her slow, even breathing and the occasional snort or two. He stood up and walked over to look at her. He had never really taken the time to appreciate her – except that one time at Halloween when she dressed as Marilyn Monroe. Seeing her costumes was the only _good_ thing about Halloween, a holiday he personally hated.

Now he studied every part of her that he could see, with the wistful feeling that he might never get this close again.

After a time he found a blanket and covered her, then leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. But when he tried to stand back up, he couldn't. One of her hands was out of the covers and holding onto his shirt so tightly he knew it would rip if he straightened up. "Abby," he murmured, "let go now. I have to go home. Please, Abby, let go."

"Mm-mm," she answered, her eyes still closed. "Stay. Stay with me."

"I can't, Abbs." He began to gently pry her fingers from his shirt.

"Terrorists," she whispered, her eyes suddenly opening, revealing intense fear. "Tony, the terrorists."

He tried to placate her. "We don't know for sure if there are terrorists, Abby. It could have been a malfunction. SecNav's just playing it safe."

"No," she shook her head violently. "It's not a malfunction. I'm scared, Tony. Will you sleep with me? I don't mean _sleep with me_, I just mean sleep. Hold me." By this time she was sobbing, and Tony was shocked at the intensity of her feelings. Was this why she had tried to seduce him – so she wouldn't have to be alone?

"C'mon, Abbs," he whispered. "Let's head upstairs and go to bed."

**NCIS**

_The leader of the small group stood watching through the near darkness as the others busied themselves with their assigned tasks. Everything was proceeding according to plan. It always pleased him when a mission fit well and there were no weak spots in the progression of events._

_Hasav, the communications monitor, spoke suddenly, interrupting his reverie. "They have discovered the source, and they believe it to be caused by nature. They are not suspicious, sir."_

_He patted his stomach with satisfaction. "Very good. Let me hear them."_

_Hasav switched his headphones to speakers_.

"—lightning caused a short circuit, you say?" The voice was fuzzy, obviously coming from a cell phone tap.

"I would bet my commission on it, sir."

"No way it could be intentional?"

"Not that I can imagine."

"Very good. As soon as you have it repaired, call everyone back to HQ."

_Hasav returned the feed to headphones and glanced at the leader. "Orders, sir?"_

"_Keep listening. Once they have returned, we start our countdown."_


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Crush (3)

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

McGee woke with a pounding headache, and when he opened one eye everything was blurry. "Ugh," he groaned, turning on his back. "Water. I need water." He tried to sit up but was hit with a wave of nausea. "Damn," he muttered.

"Ah, you're awake," came a familiar and irritatingly cheery voice. He opened his eyes just a bit to see a blur that looked like Ziva standing beside the bed holding a glass of water. "Here, I thought you'd need this."

He struggled to sit up against the headboard without throwing up on her. "Thank you," he mumbled as he drank, trying to go slowly so his stomach wouldn't protest. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

She sat down on his bed and took the empty glass from his shaking hands. "You really tried one on last night, McGee," she said with a hint of disapproval.

"That's 'tied,' Ziva, and weren't you there too?"

"Yes, but I did not drink as much as you did and I did not mix my alcohol. That is always a bad idea."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." A discomforting thought entered his brain – _'Oh no, did I – did we –'_ He glanced surreptitiously at the disheveled bed and his own state of undress. Usually he slept in a T-shirt as well as boxers.

"Ziva, uh –"

She laughed at his obvious discomfort. "No, no, Tim. You could barely _walk_; I don't think you could have handled anything else. I slept on the guest bed."

"Oh good," he said with relief. He looked up at her. "I mean – uh, not that you're not attractive, Ziva – not that I wouldn't – I mean – oh, you know," he covered his face with his hands, feeling that with every word the probability of his sudden death increased dramatically.

Ziva just smiled tolerantly, chuckling inside. "Relax, Timothy. Everything is good. Would you like to chance breakfast?"

His stomach lurched at the thought, but he did want to take some painkillers and on an empty stomach, that would be even worse. "What kind of breakfast?"

"Nothing heavy. Toast, cereal, something like that."

"All right. Toast would be good. No butter," he added as she moved towards the bedroom door.

"I will have it ready," she promised, walking quickly down the hallway.

McGee had to smile a little; he had never imagined Ziva David taking care of him. Not that he objected, of course. For just a moment he allowed himself to indulge in a little fantasy that involved Ziva, wearing just a negligee, perched beside his typewriter feeding him pieces of fruit while he worked.

He shook off the vision, realizing that he really needed to get up. Bracing himself, he stood dizzily and made it to the bathroom just in time.

**NCIS**

The distant sound of a phone ringing made its way into Gibbs' sleep-fogged brain, but it wasn't until the 6th ring that his eyes finally jerked open and he grabbed the cell phone lying on the floor nearby. "Gibbs," he mumbled.

"Jethro, are you all right?" a familiar voice asked.

'_She sounds too damn perky,'_ he thought irritably. "Why did you wake me up, Jen?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "To tell you to get your ass back to work. Problem's fixed; we're back in business. So get out from under your boat and get dressed."

He was more awake now, and he had to smile when she mentioned the boat. Of course, she would know that's where he was.

"I'll be there soon," he promised.

"And call your team," she added, then realized he had already cut her off. 'Typical Gibbs,' she sighed to herself. Just in case, she began calling them herself.

**NCIS**

Tony heard his phone ringing and groaned but didn't move from his position; he was entirely too comfortable with Abby's head on his shoulder and his arms encircling her. When Abby's cell phone began to ring as well, she stirred in his arms, mumbling something about "need more Caf-Pow! Gibbs…"

"Abby, wake up," Tony said, gently sliding away to sit up on the bed. "Phones."

"Mmm-hmm," she said, finding a spot on the pillow and snuggling under the covers.

He was too late to answer his phone, but he saw the name and number. He quickly called her back.

"Tony? I'm on the phone with Ziva right now. Good news, it's all clear. Normal work schedule."

"That's – uh, fantastic! We – I mean I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Tony!" Abby complained in a shrill voice. "Not so loud."

Jenny smiled to herself. It was not something she would have expected, but considering it was Tony… and Abby… "Good. I'll see you two shortly."

Tony groaned as he hung up. Now the director thought he was with Abby! At least she wouldn't _tell_ what she thought she knew, he mused, as he sat back down on the bed. "Abbs, wake up. We can go back to work now."

She shot up from the bed, her eyes the same as they had been the night before. He could tell she was panicking. "No, Tony. I'm not going. Don't go, Tony, you'll get hurt."

She sounded very irrational and he began to wonder if there was something deeper going on. He turned her chin to face him and caught her eyes. "Abby. Listen. The problem is fixed now. No more power failures. No terrorists. Everything is okay now." He slowly stroked her hair, which she seemed to like.

"No…" she whispered.

"Yes. I promise." She continued to huddle into herself, blocking out what he was saying. In desperation, he leaned over and kissed her. It was neither long nor passionate, but when they separated it was as if the sun had suddenly risen in her world. The darkness and fear disappeared, and she straightened her back, smiling.

"Race you to the shower!" she said playfully.

Tony grinned. "You're on!"


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Crush (4)

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

Gibbs picked up his desk phone, but when no voice spoke and the sound continued, he realized it was his cell. He was still tired from the night before. "Gibbs."

"Jethro, thank God," came the voice of their medical examiner. "I was called out last night to help Metro PD with a case, and…"

"It turns out we might have jurisdiction?" Gibbs was already standing and preparing to leave; his 3 agents followed suit.

"Yes, but you have to hurry. You know how territorial they are."

He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Yeah."

"What is it, Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"Ducky found a case. We've got to hurry, though; Metro's involved. Ziva, McGee, with me. Tony –" He looked at his senior field agent with a frown. "Stay here and help Abby. Something's wrong with her."

For once Tony was glad to be left behind. Also, he was glad that he actually knew what Abby's problem was this time. "I'll do my best, Boss," he promised.

Gibbs pulled out of the garage and onto the street, his gut telling him that the case was serious. He drove up to the security station at the entrance to the Naval Yard, barely slowing down to wave at the guard, then found himself frustrated by a red light at the next street. McGee and Ziva said nothing, not wanting to irritate him further.

The red light faded, but to his surprise it was not replaced by green. All the cars at the intersection hesitated, unsure of what to do. Looking down the street, McGee could tell that other street lights were out too, as well as electric lights on buildings. "Boss, I think…"

He was interrupted by an explosion down the street behind them, and Gibbs instantly made a u-turn and stepped hard on the gas.

"Black smoke, it looks like NCIS," Ziva said. "Elokim yerachem,"* she added under her breath.

The explosions continued. A few seconds later their fears were confirmed -- NCIS headquarters had a huge hole in the middle of the roof, and new ones appeared with each horrible, gut wrenching blast. They stepped out of the car and rushed down the street. Gibbs realized that the upper level, with MTAC and the Director's office, had been completely obliterated. "Jenny," he whispered, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat.

People were streaming from the nearby buildings, as well as the ships docked across the Yard. Gibbs' team pushed their way through the crowd, flashing their NCIS badges and leaving shocked faces behind them. Security officers would not allow them too close though, in fear that the building might collapse entirely at any moment.

"My people," Gibbs panted, his throat choked with dust.

"You can't help them now," the officer said gently holding him back. "As soon as it's safe we'll start searching for them."

"Tony and Abby," McGee muttered, his churning stomach telling him that the bright stars in their team might be lost.

At that moment, the entire structure fell to the ground in a jumbled heap of debris.

**NCIS**

_five minutes earlier_

"Hey, Tony," Abby said with pleasure. "What's up?"

He was relieved to see that her music was playing as usual and she seemed cheery. "Boss sent me down to check on you, see if you needed some help," he replied with a grin.

"Oh that's so sweet!" She abruptly dropped her work and ran to him for a great big hug. When she finally released him, he chanced a brush of his lips against hers.

She could feel that this moment was important; what happened next could change their lives.

The choice was easy. She responded with a real kiss that quickly became passionate. "Abbs – the cameras –" he murmured.

"Forget the cameras," she replied, pulling them aside so they were just out of range. At that moment the lights flickered, and they both stiffened. "Come with me," Abby said urgently, grabbing his hand tightly.

Tony had no idea where he was going but it didn't matter because he couldn't get away if he tried. Her vise-like grip on his hand forced him to run along behind her, through a maze of tiny hallways and finally into a small room with shelves on each wall and a very heavy door.

"Safe room," she explained, out of breath. "There are supplies here. It's built extra-strong." Just then the lights failed entirely and they were momentarily overpowered by darkness. Abby felt around near the door and found the emergency flashlight. As she directed the light around the room, Tony noticed that the items on the shelves appeared to be dancing.

"Abby, I think –" he began.

She had felt it too, and a few seconds later there was no doubt about what was happening above them. "They're bombs," she said quietly. "Designed to match the resonance frequency of the building." She looked around the room again, searching for something.

An explosion occurred nearby, causing pieces of shattered concrete to rain down around them. "Tony!" she shrieked, simultaneously pushing him down and diving into a corner of the room where there was a long metal table.

Tony could hear the clatter of debris on the metal covering them. He realized he wasn't quite under the table all the way when something heavy hit his left ankle and foot, producing excruciating pain. "Oh, shit," he groaned.

"What?" Abby asked.

"My foot…"

She pointed the flashlight at his feet and saw that the left one was sticking out from under the table and had gotten pinned under a narrow steel beam. "Tony, your foot's stuck. When I say the word, twist it until it comes free. I'm going to lift the beam just a little."

"I think it's broken," he said breathlessly.

"Then it should be easy to twist," she replied with intentional irony. She reached hesitantly from their cover and moved the beam just enough so that he could slip his foot out and pull it under the table. Seconds later a piece of concrete landed where his foot had been.

Abby sighed. "Let me see it, Tony." She slowly removed his shoe – accompanied by his numerous groans and flinches – to find that the foot and the ankle were definitely broken. At one point an ankle bone just broke the skin. She knew then that his pain must be severe indeed, but there was nothing she could do about it.

"How does it look?" Tony asked breathlessly. "Or do I want to know?"

Abby didn't answer, she simply twisted so that she could remove the spandex leggings she had worn that day. Then she positioned his ankle and foot as naturally as she could, and wrapped the spandex tightly around them. "Be still, Tony!" she scolded, when he reflexively moved away from her painful touch.

"Damn it, Abby, what the hell are you doing?" he exclaimed, wincing from the pain.

"Your ankle and foot are broken. I'm wrapping them to keep down swelling." He could barely see her face in the dim light from the flashlight, but he could tell that she was worried.

"Wrapping them with what?" he demanded.

Abby laughed. "My leggings – they're spandex," she explained.

"Hmmm," Tony replied suggestively; even in his current state of agony, only half of the thoughts entering his mind were about his injury. The other half involved what might be under Abby's short skirt now that the leggings were gone. She giggled, knowing what he was thinking. "Not much," she replied seductively to his unspoken question.

As Abby finished her task, she realized she would have to keep Tony's mind off his injuries as best she could. No matter what was required. She smiled at that thought, because it meant that she could best do her duty by doing exactly what she wanted most..

**NCIS**

"Where the hell is Jethro?" Ducky asked for the third time. He was frustrated because he knew NCIS was about to lose any chance of taking over the investigation of the ensign's dead girlfriend.

"Dr. Mallard!" The police officer – Morrison, was it? – was running as fast as he could towards the dead body and the M.E. "Police scanner – bombing – NCIS," he panted, his breathlessness partly due to anxiety and partly from sprinting down the alley.

Ducky turned in the direction of the Naval Yard and he could see the smoke rising. "Good God," he murmured. "Jimmy…"

"Yes, doctor." They quickly packed their gear and headed back home in silence to see what -- and who -- was left.

**NCIS**

_They watched the NCIS building disintegrate from the roof of an abandoned warehouse on the other side of the Anacostia River. With whoops and other exclamations, they jumped up and down until their leader stopped them._

"_Get back to your posts," he said shortly. "The clock is still ticking. Remember, this is only the beginning."_

_* _"elokim yerachem" = "God will have mercy"


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Crush (5)

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Did anyone escape before the building collapsed?" Jethro shouted at the MP standing in his way.

The man nodded. "Yes, sir! The medical team is on the other side."

"Come on!" Gibbs, Ziva, and McGee ran as fast as possible to the other side of the debris pile. They saw several ambulances and fire trucks, plus another van, just pulling up, that was a very welcome sight – the NCIS Medical Examiner.

"Ducky!" Gibbs increased his speed towards the van, then he caught a flash of red hair in the corner of his eyes. He turned to Ziva and McGee. "Go on to Ducky, I'll meet you there in a moment."

Ziva knew what he had seen, and it had given her hope as well. "McGee! Move a little faster!"

Gibbs concentrated on the red-haired woman. 'It has to be Jen – it has to,' he thought. She was weaving through the group, possibly trying to determine who was safe and who might be under the rubble. "Jen!" he shouted.

She turned quickly. "Jethro! Oh, thank God!" She ran to him and embraced him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder as he put his arms around her. It took a moment before he realized that she was sobbing desperately because of what had taken place. She could be the hard-as-rock, emotionless administrator under pressure – but not with him. He knew her too well; he could see right through her façade, so she didn't even try to maintain it.

He slowly rubbed her back and held her close, whispering calming words in her ear. He hadn't held her like this in forever, and despite the circumstances he felt thankful to have the chance again.

Finally, she pulled away, surreptitiously trying to wipe away the tears. Gibbs reached for a tissue in his pocket and gently completed the task. "Time to be the Director again, Jenny," he murmured. "You can do it. I'll help you in any way I can."

She struggled to pull herself together, squaring her shoulders and putting on her "don't mess with me" face. "Thank you, Special Agent Gibbs," she replied. "Your service is much appreciated."

He couldn't help but grin. "No problem, Director Shepard. I'm going to consult with Dr. Mallard now. You know how to reach me."

By this time the press had arrived, and they were asking her for a statement. Gibbs sighed as he walked towards the M.E.'s truck – that was exactly what Jenny needed right now. Ha. Especially when she was lucky to be alive…. _'We are all lucky to be alive,'_ he thought, feeling a surge of energy and pride flow through him, _'and the bastards who did this are lucky I don't know where they are.'_

Dr. Mallard and Ziva were performing basic first aid for the survivors, and Gibbs walked slowly to join them, trying not to think about Tony and Abby.

**NCIS**

The rumbling of explosions finally faded, as did the fall of debris. Abby turned the flashlight on for a 360˚ sweep of the area around their tiny space. It was evident that they were completely surrounded by concrete, steel, and other structural materials.

"Abby… " Tony began, almost apologetically.

She shut off the flashlight and cast it aside, sighing as she laid down on his uninjured side. She gently took him in her arms. "Tony," she whispered, her mouth close to his ear. "You know what this means."

"How much time?" he asked, nestling against her neck and wrapping his arms around her, his fingers interlaced.

Her voice was raspy with fear. "Not much," she replied, tears beginning to drip silently onto his chest. "If they don't find us soon…"

He shushed her with a kiss, intending it to be short, but to his surprise she responded with a mixture of passion and desperation. "Tony," she murmured, choked with the tears that now ran freely. "Please, Tony."

He knew what she – what they both wanted and needed in what was likely to be their last hours. He ran his tongue and lips down her neck and she moaned, shivering as his hands skipped gently across her chest. Her leg swung up and over and a moment later she was straddling him, ripping his shirt off, mixing little sobs with professions of love. He held her face in his hands and said her name again and again as she continued to undress him – within the restrictions of his broken ankle, of course.

Abby's moans increased when he reached under her shirt and ran his hand along her flat stomach, dipping once or twice below the waistband of her skirt. By now they were both breathing hard, and they knew what that meant. There was no time to waste. They had each made a fierce, determined vow to stay alive long enough to show the ultimate love to the other.

It was time.

**NCIS**

McGee felt numb as he walked the perimeter of the demolished headquarters. So many things had happened there, memories both good and bad. Some of them had been immortalized – with only a little fudging – in his books. He imagined transforming this scene into fiction; how would Special Agent McGregor feel? He himself felt it was unreal, so the fictional aspect made sense.

McGregor would be devastated, but strong, McGee imagined. He would take the losses in stride, even taking into account his persistent feelings for forensic scientist Amy Sutton, and save his grief until the terrorists had been caught. In this respect, he was very like his mentor, L.J Tibbs, whom he had imitated ever since his arrival from Norfolk. Both of them focused on retribution and getting the criminals no matter what it took. In fact, Special Agent Tibbs –

McGee's reverie was interrupted by a scream, a familiar scream. It seemed close, but faint as if it were buried under piles of debris.

He didn't see Gibbs nearby, so he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, I just heard Abby scream. It sounded like she was buried deep."

A hand on his shoulder make him almost jump out of his skin, then he realized it was Gibbs.

"How do you know it was Abby?" the older man asked calmly.

McGee had not thought about it at first, but now that he _was_ thinking about it, he began to blush crimson. "Uh – boss, it's because – well, she has a very distinctive way of screaming." He tried to keep his eyes lowered, since he knew Gibbs was well aware of his meaning.

"McGee!" Gibbs said loudly, forcing the younger agent to look up. "This is no time for self-consciousness; we're trying to save Abby, not your sense of propriety. So tell me, McGee, does this scream only occur at certain times? Like during sex?"

McGee struggled to keep his eyes on Gibbs. "Yes, boss."

"So what makes you think she would be screaming like that when she's underneath 3 floors worth of rubble?"

The answer came before he was even conscious of it himself. "Because she's with Tony?" The moment McGee heard the words come out of his mouth he became angry, and hatred dripped from his voice as he shouted "Because she's down there with Tony, dammit, and she's trapped! With him!"

Gibbs didn't answer, just closed his eyes for a moment to think. He turned to McGee and asked gently, "Where exactly did you hear it?"

**NCIS**

Tony and Abby were barely able to return their clothing to some semblance of normal before they felt so sleepy they could not keep their eyes open. Both knew well what this meant: their oxygen was running out, and they probably would never wake up from this sleep.

So they snuggled as close together as possible, Abby's head against his chest. She was comforted by the steady beating of his heart, which told her he was still alive. It quickly lulled her towards oblivion.

Some long or short time later -- or maybe time didn't even exist anymore – Abby heard the faint sound of machinery. It quickly grew louder, and she frowned, twisting her body even closer into Tony's. His grip on her tightened briefly, then they both went limp.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Crush (5)

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

Since their usual sources of intel and technology were completely smashed (and the case was assigned to the FBI) the center of investigation was the Hoover building. Gibbs never thought he'd be so happy to work alongside his FBI colleagues. About 25 employees, other than Gibbs' team, had been out in the field or otherwise managed to escape the massive attack on the building. Some of them were in hospital, injured, but most had been merged into the FBI teams.

Gibbs' team was different, of course. Tony and Abby had been barely alive when they were finally extracted from their hidden sanctuary. McGee had been given hospital duty when Gibbs saw the shell shock in his eyes. Ducky and Palmer worked with the FBI medical examiners to deal with the many bodies found in the wreckage.

The mood throughout the building was somber. Gibbs found Jenny watching surveillance tapes on the plasma, but her eyes were glazed over and he doubted that she actually saw anything in front of her. "Jen," he whispered, touching her arm.

Startled, she came back to reality. "We're looking for suspicious persons…" she murmured, staring at nothing.

He recognized that neither of them was at peak performance, and as much as he hated to admit it, some rest would benefit them both. "You need a break, Director," he said firmly. "Both of us do," he added under his breath.

She turned and smirked at him, color coming back to her cheeks. "Did I just hear the Great Jethro Gibbs admit that he needs to _rest_?"

He glared at her and she laughed. "Just come on," he grumbled, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

**NCIS**

_They were aware of everything going on at the Hoover building – every phone call, every conference, every computer search, and almost every conversation._

_Yedekel smiled at the skill of his computer specialists_.

**NCIS**

McGee stared uncomfortably at the comatose figure encased in sheets that were barely whiter than her face. An IV line ran from either arm and an oxygen mask went from clear to misty and back again as she took slow, somewhat labored breaths. "Abby – how could you do this?" he murmured. "I thought you loved me. At least a little."

He walked to the chair beside her bed and sat down, taking her hand in his own. His vision blurred a bit and the hospital room melted into memories. He could see her eyes and her smile, feel the warmth of her hugs, and – although he tried to push it out of his head – he could still hear her moaning, calling his name, and screaming when they made love. "Whatever I did or didn't do, I was really stupid," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Abby. If Tony makes you happy, then I'll be happy." His voice was hesitant on the last bit, and he hoped he would actually be able to carry it out. But he would certainly try his best.

Dr. Sorrels and Nurse Darlene entered Abby's area of ICU, nodding briefly at Tim. He waited while they checked her vitals and determined the depth of her coma. "How is she?"

"She's improved her GCS score," Sorrels replied. McGee had learned earlier that GCS meant "Glasgow Coma Scale" and that higher numbers indicated that the coma was lighter. "She opens her eyes and pulls away from pain so that puts her into the moderate level with a score of 9. We expect continued improvement over time, at least into the mild category. Of course, she may recover completely. It's not even 18 hours yet."

McGee looked relieved. Then he hesitated – he didn't really want to ask about Tony – but he had to. "What about Agent DiNozzo?"

The doctor's pager beeped. "I'll let the nurse fill you in. Please excuse me."

Darlene smiled. "Agent DiNozzo is doing much better. He speaks well but he's still confused. His eyes open on their own, and he can follow some commands. Would you like to see him?"

McGee averted his eyes, not wanting the nurse to see the anger and hatred in his eyes. "No, I'll stay here with Abby," he said quietly.

"Well, call if you need anything," she said, touching his arm sympathetically. "I'm sure she'll get better soon." She paused in the doorway. "Agent DiNozzo asked to see Ms. Sciuto. Technically he's well enough to do so. I was thinking of bringing him in about half an hour. Would you like me to let you know first?"

He nodded, somewhat embarrassed that his feelings were so obvious, but glad he didn't have to face Tony. "Thank you, Darlene."

**NCIS**

Ziva stood with a group of translators around a large conference table covered with papers. She tried to remain calm and rational, although she was getting a headache from the noise and bickering between the translators.

"The language is a modification of Russian," proclaimed Sidney Barnes. "Listen to the inflection; it has Russian all over it."

"No, the vowels are Scandinavian."

"You can't go by just one indicator."

"Yes, but you shouldn't be stupid either."

"You are all stupid!" said a loud voice.

Ziva didn't even realize it was _her_ voice that shouted until the others began to stare at her. She cleared her throat, feeling somewhat less confident than normal. "Obviously it is not a well-known language, agreed? Perhaps some dialect of a more common tongue?" Men and women began to protest, but she silenced them with a disdainful wave. "You are right; it is not like any common language. However, it must be part of some language family, yes?" She saw many of them start to nod, but before they could get started, she yelled forcefully, "No! No! There are many, many so-called 'orphan languages' in the world. We must focus on these orphans, because that is the only way to translate the data we have."

Startled, the other translators finally listened to and thought about what she was saying. A few moments later someone brought up the database of orphan languages on the big screen, and small groups began to examine the documents, comparing them to characteristics of each language.

Ziva smiled with relief and picked up a lone document. Finally they could get somewhere.

Two hours later, after the language was finally identified, the translation unit began sending English equivalent documents to the teams that were analyzing the terrorists' motives and methods.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Crush (7)

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

Lt. Col Jacobs smiled at McGee when he entered the area designated "Cyber HQ." "Hello, Special Agent McGee. Your reputation has preceded you – we all know about your exceptional knowledge and intuition in computer forensics."

To her surprise, the glowing evaluation produced a mixture of discomfort and unhappiness on McGee's face. "A lot of the credit actually goes to our forensic scientist," he mumbled.

"Even so, we are very glad to have you working with us. Let me introduce you to your team."

He followed her into a large room full of cubicles, similar to the squad room at NCIS. 'Déjà vu,' he thought, feeling uneasy.

"This is your desk. You will work with Dr. Vanessa Prescott, Lt. Davies, Major Smith, and Agent Yakami."

McGee nodded to each one, then smiled at Prescott. "Uh, you probably don't remember me, Dr. Prescott, but…"

"Timothy McGee!" she interrupted, offering her hand warmly. "How could I forget you? Top of your class that year, and didn't you have a double major besides? It's wonderful to see you again!"

He could feel the heat on his ears and was sure they were blooming an embarrassing red. "You too, doctor."

"Call me Vanessa; we're colleagues now."

McGee nodded, his discomfort increasing. He just wanted to get to work, burying himself in computer software, sniffing out the trail of the terrorists.

"Uh, Vanessa, what am I working on?" he asked as the others returned to their desks.

"You have been assigned a portion of the software to examine, looking for altered code that could disrupt the power infrastructure in any way."

The computer was already on; when he moved the mouse he could see that the screen was filled with lines of encrypted code. The encryption didn't matter, since he knew how to translate it.

Suddenly he remembered searching medical software code with Abby and comparing the most boring jobs they'd ever had. They had successfully located the sabotage by working together. That was not an option this time, and with a sigh he brushed those thoughts from his mind, focusing instead on the symbols before him.

**NCIS**

In the FBI's version of MTAC, the Director, Special Agent Gibbs, and other senior agents from various agencies watched as information began to come in from the teams working various aspects of the problem.

"Translations suggest this will be a large scale operation," reported one operative. "The bombing of NCIS headquarters was a preliminary strike intended to test their methods.. " He listened carefully, then added, "The next event will be an attack on all government buildings in Washington, DC, beginning with the Hoover building."

"They know we're here," Jenny murmured.

"For all we know they could have eyes and ears all over this place," Gibbs whispered. "We'll have to be more discreet. Let's go back to old-fashioned pen and paper. There's no way they can track it electronically, and if the paper's kept hidden most of the time, their cameras won't pick it up."

"Yes, but we should continue talk as well, or they'll realize what we know. Get Fornell and we'll instruct everyone in this room." Gibbs nodded and stood up. Fornell, his quasi-friend from the FBI, was watching over the shoulder of a profiler who was developing a profile of the terrorists.

"What've you got?" Gibbs asked unceremoniously. At the same time he handed Fornell a clipboard on which he had written, "Write truth. Speak false."

Fornell's eyes showed he understood. He moved away from the profiler and Gibbs followed. "Our group is most likely to be Irish terrorists trying to get the U.S. to pay attention to them. They haven't really had the chutzpah to attack within the U.S. before now, so they must be getting desperate. And more advanced, too." Simultaneously he wrote, "Chechen area terrorist cell. Stalinists. Desperate, advanced."

Gibbs nodded. "I thought we'd have trouble from them eventually," he said. "I'll spread the word on the profile. Thanks, Fornell."

"My pleasure, Agent Gibbs. You still owe me a bottle of Scotch."

Gibbs' lips turned up just a bit. "I won't forget." He returned to Director Shepard and relayed the double message, both print and voice.

"We should send a formal report to all the teams, in case the information is useful to them. Do you want to handle that, Special Agent Gibbs?"

He nodded for the benefit of anyone who might be watching. "It would be my pleasure, Director Shepard."

**NCIS**

By the time that Tony was allowed to see Abby, McGee had long since left. Tony had relapsed into unconsciousness for about half an hour, which delayed his visit.

Once he was considered safe, however, he was taken in a wheelchair to Abby's bedside. She had begun to open her eyes spontaneously and move around. Her need for oxygen had decreased as well. The doctor expected her to make a complete recovery, but Tony needed to see for himself.

"Abby?" he said softly, barely touching her cheek.

Her head turned slightly towards him and her eyes tried to focus, as she was still seeing double. "Tony? Oh, thank God, Tony!" She tried to sit up to hug him, but the strength left her and she fell back onto the pillow feeling frustrated.

He leaned across the bed instead, hugging her awkwardly, and whispered in her ear, "We made it, Abbs. We're still alive!"

Tears ran down her cheeks. "I love you, Tony! I'm so glad to still be alive with you. What about the rest of the team? Are they okay?" she paused a moment, then added, "Was McGee here? In my dreams while I was out, it seemed that he was here."

Tony nodded. "Probie's not real happy with the situation between us," he said gently.

"Oh." Her smile faded into a frown. "I hate for Tim to be upset."

"He'll work it out for himself. You guys have been apart for awhile anyway, right?" Abby was deep in thought and did not answer immediately. "Right?"

"What? Oh, yes, we haven't been in a relationship since – well –" she struggled to pin down the date in her memory, but it remained elusive. She recognized this as a consequence of the hypoxia and coma, but wasn't pleased with it at all. Anything that affected her brain was very unpleasant and even frightening.

"Tony?" she said quietly.

"Mmmmhmmm?"

"Will you still love me if my brain doesn't work as well anymore? If I have too much brain damage and I can't work anymore? Or if I don't remember you."

"I don't know; those things haven't happened."

"Tony! I'm serious." She gave him a weak fist in the ribs.

"So am I." He chose to ignore her minor burst of anger and instead held her against him. "Abby, I can't imagine anything that would make me stop loving you."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Crush (8)

Author: GataChica

Rating: FR15 for language and sex

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS. The characters are not meant to resemble anyone living or dead. No copyright infringement is intended.

McGee watched the lines of code flow by, trying to keep his mind focused on the task before him. The longer he worked the better he felt, as he began to forget about Tony and Abby for the moment. He knew he had an important part to play in the race against the terrorists.

It was nice seeing Dr. Prescott – Vanessa – again, he thought. In college he had quite a 'thing' for her; thank goodness she knew how to let him down easily, or his senior year would have been one long heartbreak.

'Wait,' he suddenly told himself. 'What was_ that_?' He scrolled up a few lines, and that was where he found it. How could it look so innocuous and be so damaging? For a moment he doubted himself, then became more resolute. He quickly copied the piece of code to his flash drive; at the same time, the emergency signal began to whine. The intercom told everyone to evacuate, and he reacted instantly, moving faster than he ever had before. He moved so quickly he almost missed Dr. Prescott standing in an alcove, talking quietly but urgently into her cell phone.

But he backtracked and caught her gaze, immediately understanding what she was doing. Her eyes were so full of guilt, there was no way he could have failed to notice. She tried to get away, but she wasn't quick enough. The power failed but by then he already had the handcuffs on her. He dragged and pushed her to the nearest exit, allowing them to escape just before the trouble started.

He looked at her, disgusted, when the explosions began. "Stop this!" he ordered, his hands tightening on her wrists. "I know you can do it. Call them and tell them to stop!"

Defiantly, she said, "Make me, Tim."

He grabbed the cell phone and hit redial, at the same time grasping her neck in a choke hold with his other arm. "Say it!" he practically screamed. "Say it, Vanessa! Say it or die!"

Her face grew red from the pressure on her throat, and finally she nodded, looking at him in revulsion. She spoke rapidly into the phone, in that strange language. Almost instantly the explosions stopped.

"If it starts again," he warned her, "I won't hesitate to kill you."

She knew he was telling the truth.

**NCIS**

McGee, Gibbs and Fornell carried out the interrogation of Vanessa Prescott. Using her cell phone as a starting point, they were able to determine where the terrorists were when she called them. Unfortunately they had cleared out but she was quite willing to tell where their secondary base was. Within four hours the entire cell had been arrested.

Later, Jenny sat on a bench near the crumbled NCIS headquarters, staring at the rubble but not really seeing it. This was why they had people to gather intel, this was the reason for tight security. It was meant to prevent serious destruction and death. How had they gotten around it? Had she somehow failed in her duties as Director, allowing the terrorists to get the upper hand?

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Ducky standing behind her, his eyes understanding. "There was nothing you could have done," he said quietly. "It is not your fault, Jenny."

"Twenty-four people are dead, Ducky," she told him, keeping her voice even in spite of the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I was their boss. How can you tell me I should not feel guilty?"

He sat down beside her and gathered her into his arms, comforting her as she cried. He didn't envy her position.

**NCIS**

A week and a half later, NCIS had set up a temporary HQ in another building on the Navy Yard, one that was only partially used. They didn't have the technology they were accustomed to, and would not for some time. But they had a place to work. Gibbs, McGee and Ziva sat at makeshift desks near each other. Gibbs had been uncommonly gentle with Tim since the attack; Tim assumed that it was due to his part in stopping the terrorists. But Gibbs was more gentle than usual with Ziva, too. The attack had shaken him to the very core, making him realize that he'd better appreciate his team while they were still around, because there was no guarantee they would be tomorrow.

The three agents didn't know that Tony and Abby had been released from the hospital; therefore they looked up in surprise when the two entered the new squad room, holding hands. Gibbs looked at them pointedly, but they ignored him.

"Hi, Tony, hi, Abby," Ziva said, standing to give each a hug. She almost stepped on the boot in which Tony's foot and ankle were encased. "Oops, sorry Tony."

Tony smiled. "'S okay. It's so strong I wouldn't feel it anyway."

McGee had not stood up. Without looking at them, he said, "Welcome back, guys."

"Thanks, Tim," said Abby.

Gibbs stood, and without a word he motioned them to the elevator, in which he had established his new "office." Once they were inside, he pulled the emergency switch.

"I'm glad you two are still alive," he said slowly, "but give me one good reason I shouldn't have both of you transferred for breaking rule 12."

Abby glanced at Tony, then smiled at Gibbs. "There were extenuating circumstances, Gibbs," she replied. "I'm sure you know about those."

Tony merely tried not to grin too widely and waited for his Boss's response.

Gibbs flipped the switch to turn the elevator back on. "No hanky panky at work," he said gruffly, just before the elevator doors opened.

Tony squeezed Abby's hand, then let it drop. "Let's get back to work," he whispered to Abby.

the end


End file.
